Through the window from my studio,
I feel the warm sun filtered by the canopy of oaks, coaxing.
I see the edge of the front porch with rocking chairs side-by-side, welcoming.
I hear the steady hammer of woodpeckers, the sweet chirping of yellow finches, calling.
I taste the sweetness of time passing, the privilege of loving, the longing over loss, praying.
I seek balance, swaying between extremes, finding my place in this space, shifting.
Through the window from my studio, I begin over and over again, willing.